by Jae
Eliza’s smile turned into a frown. “Science experiment? Jesus, only a chemistry teacher would ever approach dating like that!” She raised her finger at them. “You’d better give this a real shot, or we’ll keep badgering you for the next fifty years.”
“Okay, okay,” Ky said. “We’ll even do the candlelight thing. Happy now?”
“Depends.” Eliza sent Regan a questioning look. “Where are you taking Kylie?”
Apparently, Regan had been chosen as the head of Operation No-Chemistry Date. But it had been some time since she’d last wined and dined someone, and The Country Cat—the restaurant where their triple D had taken place—hadn’t fared any better than that date and had closed a couple of years ago. “I don’t know. I thought we’d have dinner at The Observatory.”
“For a date?” Eliza shook her head. “The food is great, but it’s too noisy for intimate convos.”
The thought of Ky gazing deeply into her eyes while she whispered words of adoration caused a strange, unsettling feeling in the pit of Regan’s stomach. Only because it was so absurd, right?
A wrinkle formed above Ky’s eyebrow. Finally, it smoothed out, and she shrugged. “We’ll play it by ear. The setting doesn’t matter; the person you’re with does.” She made it sound like a teasing remark, but the look in her eyes was sincere.
“True,” Regan said. Their last few nights out had been get-togethers with the entire gang, and while she always enjoyed those, she was looking forward to spending tonight with just Ky.
Two women strolled up to the booth. One of them pointed at the banner hanging over Denny’s side of the stall. “Holy denim! Women’s pants with real pockets? Where do I sign up?”
Denny’s cheeks turned crimson, but she smiled at the enthusiastic reaction. “Right here.”
Regan slid her arm through Ky’s. “Come on. Let’s give the paying customers some space and go get some empanadas to tide us over until tonight.”
As they walked away, waving to their friends, Ky exhaled. “Phew. Saved by the customer.” She tugged Regan toward the line in front of PDX Empanadas. “You know you don’t really have to take me anywhere tonight, right? I mean, it’s not like either of us makes a lot of money. We can order pizza and—”
“No, no, no. We’re going to dinner, my treat.” As Regan slid the pizza charm into her pocket, an idea for the perfect dinner spot came to her. “You know what? Let’s drive down to Lake O. I know this lovely little Italian restaurant right on the lake.”
“Ha! Your treat, my ass!” Ky gave her a playful bump with her shoulder. “Your parents own the place, and they act like we’re insulting them any time one of us tries to pay.”
Regan stepped slightly out of line so she could study Ky’s face. “I’m not just being cheap. We haven’t seen them in a while, and Mom has started a campaign in our WhatsApp family group to get me to bring you down for a visit.”
“I know. She added me to the group, in case you forgot. I’m just wise enough to rarely speak up so no one remembers my presence.”
“Oh, we remember, believe me. We just let you think you’re flying under the radar so we can gang up on you when you least expect it.” Regan let her grin fade away. “If you’d rather go somewhere else…”
“No,” Ky said immediately. “I’d love to see them. I kinda miss, uh, your dad’s pizza.” She regarded Regan with a straight face.
That serious demeanor might trick anyone else, but Regan knew a softie hid beneath Ky’s tough exterior. She dug her fingers into Ky’s sides, making her let out a startled squeak. “The pizza. That’s what you miss. Sure.”
“What can I say? It’s really, really good pizza.”
It was. For the first time in ages, Regan was looking forward to a date—even if the only chemistry happening would be the yeast in the pizza dough breaking down the sugar into carbon dioxide and ethanol.
Chapter 4
“This is not a date,” Regan told her reflection in the mirror. “Not a real one at least. This is just Ky.”
There was nothing different about tonight at all. She was going to visit her parents and enjoy great food with her best friend, as they had a thousand times before.
Ky had seen her in the threadbare T-shirt that she’d owned since high school, in her I get paid to be a nerd shirt, and in the pair of jeans that was slowly coming apart at the seams. There was absolutely no need to dress up or take any extra time with her hair—and it definitely wasn’t necessary to pull her sexiest bra from its hiding place in her dresser and make sure her panties matched.
But that left the question: What did you wear for a not-really-a-date date with your best friend?
Regan tapped her fingers against her chin as she stared into her closet.
She should at least make an effort, right? After all, that was what they’d promised their friends. She also couldn’t very well show up at her parents’ restaurant in her oldest pair of jeans. While La Casa Nostra had a relaxed vibe and was far from being posh, its prime location at the lake put it into a different category than the small family restaurant her parents had run when she’d been a kid.
Besides, Ky could still appreciate her taking the time to look good—in a completely platonic way, of course.
Not allowing herself to hesitate, she reached for a black knitted dress she hadn’t worn in ages. As she slipped it on, she prayed it would still fit, despite all the yummy treats Ky regularly left on her desk.
It did. She studied herself in the mirrored sliding door, trailed one hand over the curve of her hip, and peeked at the hint of cleavage the dress revealed. Doubts gnawed at her. Would Ky think it was too much?
She closed the top button of the V-neck front. But now she looked as if she were going to a PTA meeting. She popped the button back open.
The dress’s long sleeves and below-the-knee hemline should balance out the fairly deep cut of the front, right?
Jesus, Regan Romano! She had spent less time picking an outfit for an actual date. Must be why I’m single.
With a wry grin, she turned away from her reflection and slid the closet door shut.
She slipped on her ankle boots with a low heel—not because she knew they made her calves look good or anything but because she wore only comfy footwear at school so she was overdue for a change of pace.
When she hung out with Ky, she never bothered with makeup, but the dress called for at least some eyeliner, didn’t it?
Do it, but pronto. If she was late to their one and only date, Ky would never let her live it down.
Finally, with only a minute to spare, she parked her car in front of Ky’s apartment complex at the southern end of the Mount Tabor neighborhood. As she walked toward the two-story building, she automatically searched for the right key on her key ring.
But when she reached the door to Ky’s ground-floor apartment, she paused. Using her key didn’t feel right. If she were a stranger Ky was going out with, she wouldn’t let herself in.
Yeah, but you’re not. It’s not a real date, she repeated her new mantra. It wouldn’t be going anywhere. Don’t be weird. Just use the damn key.
Before she could talk herself into it, the front door swung open. Ky’s roommate, Lilia, stood in the doorway, her hands raised at chest level. Foam dripped off the pink rubber gloves she was wearing. “I saw you from the sink. Did you forget your key?”
“Um, something like that. Thanks, Lil.” Regan followed her in. Her heels sank into the ugliest brown carpet in Portland—heck, probably the entire West Coast. The weird triangular patterns didn’t help.
“Kylie will be out in a minute. She’s still getting dressed.” Lilia pointed at the open doorway leading to their bedrooms and the tiny bathroom, where the salmon-colored tub and tiles gave the carpet a run for its money when it came to ugliness.
Lilia stepped back into the galley kitchen.
Regan didn’t join her. Instead, she took a seat on the nearby couch. The kitchen was so claustrophobically small that you had to pr
ess your back against the stove on the other side so you could open the fridge.
No wonder Ky spent more time at Regan’s place than her own. Regan hated that cafeteria workers were paid so badly, making it impossible for Ky to afford a better apartment. A few times over the last six years they’d both lived in Portland, she had thought about suggesting they move in together, but one of them had always gotten involved with someone else before she could actually do it. At least this apartment was within walking distance of Hamilton High School so Ky didn’t need a car.
Lilia placed a huge pot on the dish rack. “So, you and my roomie have finally realized the obvious.”
“That pizza is the most genius invention ever?”
“Please. We both know that’s tacos.” Lilia waved a gloved hand before Regan could defend the honor of Italian cuisine against dishes from Lil’s native country. “Besides, I’m talking about you and Kylie finally realizing how great you’d be together.”
A groan escaped Regan. Why did everyone think they knew more about their friendship than she and Ky did? “Not you too, Brutus.”
“Give it a rest, okay?” Ky said from the doorway. “I told you it’s not like that.”
Regan looked up. If Lilia countered something, she missed whatever it was.
Clearly, Ky had decided to put some effort into her appearance too. Regan was used to seeing her in faded jeans and a worn T-shirt or, at work, in her school polo, apron, and a baseball cap with the school’s logo. Tonight, she looked a far cry from a lunch lady.
The charcoal chinos fit her to a T—probably because Denny had custom-tailored them for her, making her sturdy legs look longer. Her white, short-sleeved sweater with the polo neck showed off her athletic arms and the light tan she somehow managed to keep year-round. She had carefully swept her bangs to one side instead of letting them fall however they wanted, and the result reminded Regan of the haircut Charlize Theron had sported in The Old Guard.
Regan’s mouth went dry. What’s wrong with you? Stop staring! She’s not Charlize!
Ky reached for the fleece-lined plum-colored corduroy jacket Regan had talked her into buying a few years back and turned her attention from her roommate to Regan.
The jacket tumbled to the floor. The familiar wrinkle formed on Ky’s brow as she stared at her.
“What?” Regan peeked down at the knitted dress. “Too much?”
Ky bent to pick up the jacket, delaying her answer for a moment.
Regan fidgeted with the top button. Should she close it after all?
But when Ky straightened, a teasing smile crept onto her face, and they seemed to be back on more familiar ground. “Oh yeah. Go home and change into something less—”
“Hot,” Lilia threw in.
Ky snapped the jacket in her direction. “Elegant. Seriously.” She let her gaze trail down the dress without lingering anywhere. “You look, um, great.”
“So do you.” She really did. Regan hadn’t been as blown away by how Ky looked since prom night, when Ky had picked her up in a tux. But then again, Ky wasn’t one for dressing up, so it was just the newness of it that had thrown her off balance.
Lilia shook her head at them. “Por Dios, you two.”
Ky shot her a look. “Come on,” she said to Regan. “Let’s go. Your dad’s pizza is waiting.”
“I won’t wait up,” Lilia called after them.
* * *
Driving south on Highway 43 toward Lake Oswego felt like going back in time. Her senior year of high school, Ky had made the trip as often as her mother would allow.
The tiny, conservative town where they had moved after losing the house in Lake O had felt suffocating, and so had her grandparents’ admonishing glances at her short hair, baggy jeans, and the rainbow bracelet Regan had made for her when Ky had come out to her at sixteen.
Regan and her accepting family had been her safe haven that she fled to whenever she could, even if it meant braving the hateful looks of her former classmates after her dad had been caught stealing from their families.
Now they were once again living in the same city, going home together. Ky grinned. Amazing how life worked out sometimes—at least for her. It hadn’t worked out for her mom. Her smile fell.
“What?” Regan asked from the driver’s seat.
It was the first thing either of them had said since crossing the Ross Island Bridge. Neither of them had felt the need to talk, so they had enjoyed the sun shining through the trees to their right and the glimpses of the Willamette to their left in silence.
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Life.”
“Your mom,” Regan said quietly.
Ky sighed. “Yeah, her too.”
Without taking her gaze off the road ahead, Regan reached over and put her hand on Ky’s thigh. The warmth of her palm filtered through Ky’s chinos.
A lump formed in Ky’s throat. “Hey, you’d better not try any funny business on our first date.”
Regan gave her a sidelong glance. “And you’d better not try to laugh it off and pretend going home doesn’t bring up a lot of memories.”
Damn, Regan knew her too well. No use in pretending. “It does. But most of them are good. At least the ones B.E.”
Before embezzlement. Thankfully, there was no need to spell it out for Regan, who gave a soft squeeze before returning her hand to the steering wheel.
At least memories of the past kept Ky from thinking too much about the present—and about the way her best friend looked in her dress. It clung to curves Ky had always tried not to notice.
Earlier, she had nearly swallowed her tongue at the sight of Regan.
A stab of guilt pierced her chest. She knew Regan probably wouldn’t mind her admiring the way she looked—and that was all it was, right? Just honest admiration. Okay, mostly honest admiration. As much as she tried to deny it, she wasn’t completely immune to how Regan looked in her sexy dating outfits.
No woman who loved women would be. It didn’t mean anything. Usually, it was only a fleeting blip on her attraction radar, something she could brush off easily to focus on what really mattered: their friendship.
But normally, Regan put on her sexy outfits for other people. She had never dressed this way for her, and it threw Ky off balance in a way she hadn’t expected.
She didn’t know where to look, so she kept her gaze trained on the upscale boutiques and cute, chalet-style buildings with their gabled roofs and hanging flower baskets as Regan made a right onto A Avenue, then turned left onto First Street.
They found a free space in the parking garage that was part of Lake View Village, the shopping center in the heart of downtown Lake Oswego.
A light Oregon drizzle had fallen earlier, so Ky slowed her steps to avoid Regan slipping on the wet cobblestones.
Not that it was actually necessary to adjust her stride to Regan’s. Despite Ky’s seven-inch advantage, Regan always kept pace because Ky’s height was mostly in her torso, whereas Regan had amazingly long legs for such a short person.
While they strolled toward Millennium Plaza Park, sidestepping a duck that had made its way up the street from the nearby lake, their arms brushed every now and then.
Ky hadn’t put on her jacket so she could enjoy the last rays of the setting sun on her skin, and now a prickle of awareness ran through her body.
She dug her teeth into her bottom lip and ignored the sensation. Where the hell was this coming from?
It was the dress. This damn dress with its buttons down the front. She had rarely seen Regan in something like this; that was all.
In a minute, she’d get used to it, and until then, she’d just have to remind herself that Regan was the girl she’d watched stick French fries up her nose while ignoring the fact that she was also the girl she’d had her first crush on.
Completely in step, they walked toward the plaza where the restaurant was located. The familiar sight of Fortuna greeted them. The seven-foot bronze sculpture, w
ith water cascading from a stone bowl balanced on its head, rose up from a rock pedestal in the middle of a small roundabout.
Beyond was the area where the farmers market was held every Saturday morning. Going to the market with Regan and her dad to pick out fresh produce for the restaurant had been one of the highlights of Ky’s week growing up.
“I’ve nearly forgotten how nice it is.” Regan gestured to the reflecting pool on the other side of the roundabout and the view of Lakewood Bay and the mansions at its shore. “Isn’t it strange how we couldn’t wait to escape this little bubble when we were teens, and now it’s starting to look kind of appealing?”
“Yeah, it is.” Ky shrugged. “Guess it means we’re settled down and boring now.”
“Ha! Speak for yourself. I’m still wild and adventurous.” Regan raised her arms high above her head and twirled.
Ky watched with an indulgent grin—until Regan’s dainty ankle boots lost traction on the wet cobblestones and her feet slipped out from under her.
Shit! Ky dropped her jacket and caught Regan with both hands on her hips. Her heart pounded a rapid staccato…from the near fall, not from holding Regan tightly against her, of course.
Everything had happened so fast that Regan’s arms were still half-raised. Now she lowered them and took hold of Ky’s sides to steady herself. Her fingers curled into the fabric of Ky’s sweater. “Phew!” Her long, shaky exhale tickled the skin left bare by Ky’s polo neck. “Thanks for the save.”
Ky opened her mouth. At the last moment, she held back a slightly cheesy reply such as, “Always.” Instead, she said, “Let’s not get too wild, okay? Your parents would have my head if I didn’t keep you from breaking a leg just a few steps from their restaurant.”
“Yeah.” Regan chuckled, still sounding breathless from the scare. “That would be bad for business.”
A snort escaped Ky. “As if they would care about that.” Regan’s parents had never put their business, as successful as it was, above family—unlike Ky’s own. Her father had always focused on his career as a lawyer and barely paid her any attention, while her mother had been busy trying to fill up the holes in her unhappy life by popping pills and spending all the money he made on things they didn’t need.